


Trust Fall

by Artemis1000



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Internal Conflict, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Cassian Andor doesn’t fall gracefully, least of all when he falls in love.After the battle of Yavin has given the galaxy another chance, Bodhi struggles to build a new life, and Cassian struggles with his own demons. They know they’re in love, but that's just the beginning of their story.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musamihi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musamihi/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy it, thank you for giving me the opportunity to write to your wonderful prompts.

There are many good reasons not to fall in love, and Cassian Andor’s certain he has been reciting most of them lately. They’ve become his mantra, and the armor he shields himself with.

One of the very best reasons is that he’s always known what kind of person he could permit himself to fall for, if he could ever permit it at all.

The person he pictured sure hadn’t been wearing an Imperial uniform the first time they met.

He still wore that horrible uniform the first time Cassian kissed him.

In holodramas the kiss signifies the happy end of the tale. In theirs, the problems had only begun with it.

He’s wearing Rebel colors now, as he works side by side with Cassian trying to salvage what they can from the wreck of their downed shuttle. They’d been lucky to make one more short jump after being hit, and shake off their pursuers before their spectacular crash and burn.

It’s a waiting game now, but neither of them likes to remain idle when the Empire is hunting for them, so they while away the hours with hopeless repairs. There’s no saying how long till they’re rescued, if their call for help was heard at all. If they could at least get weapons and atmospheric flight they’d feel a little bit less like sitting ducks. Or maybe it’s just busy work, but that’s better than thinking about worst case scenarios.

So far, so good. That is the easy part.

After hours of repairs they sit on empty boxes in front of the wreck and talk quietly while they eat a meagre dinner of dried emergency rations and water from the nearby river. It’s going well at first. It always goes well at first, until they start talking about the things which truly matter.

“Do you know if you’re going to stay?” Cassian asks quietly, and Bodhi meets his eyes. They’re both tense and nervous all of a sudden, both knowing that it’s about so much more than Bodhi signing up with the Rebel Alliance. That’s never been up to debate, after his defection cost the Empire their superweapon he’d have nowhere else to go even if he wanted to. Besides, Cassian doesn’t doubt that Bodhi wants to stay and fight. He may doubt everything else, but he doesn’t doubt that.

“I spoke with some people, I can get into the next X-Wing training program.” Bodhi’s voice is just as quiet as Cassian’s.

He nods. That’s no surprise. They’re all called heroes now, though not a single one of them feels comfortable with it, considering how many others had died for their Pyrrhic victory, or that even stealing the plans hadn’t been enough to stop the Death Star before it could fire on Alderaan. They’re called heroes, but they can never shake the feeling that they failed.

“I’m just not sure if I want to. I like flying the larger ships on long-range flights.” Bodhi shrugs, and picks at the complimentary cookie that came with his ration pack. If it’s anything like Cassian’s it’s dry and stale, and tastes more of moldy socks than sugar. Just like Cassian had, Bodhi eats it anyway, even if he grimaces his way through it, and shoots Cassian a glare for snickering at his plight. “Back when I started pilot training I wanted to be a TIE pilot, but… I was different then.”

Cold settles in Cassian’s belly at the casual reminder of Bodhi’s imperial past, but he forces himself to nod as casually as if it hadn’t been a slap in the face.

“If that’s what you’d rather do, don’t feel obligated to go for an X-Wing just because that’s what people expect,” he says, pushing aside his discomfort. “Good pilots who can bring ammunition or troops safely behind enemy lines are just as important to the war effort. I like working with you, and so do the other operatives and Pathfinders you have flown.”

Bodhi’s face lights up. “Really? That, that makes me happy. I mean everyone’s been nice and welcoming, but I know they all know where I come from and…” He shrugs. “It’s just weird, sometimes. I wonder what they think.”

His voice goes quiet, gaze turning pensive even as it focuses on Cassian, and all he can think is _oh no_. “I wonder if they look at me and see only my past… and if that’s why they keep me at arm’s length.”

Cassian looks down at the water bottle he clings to, and wishes Bodhi Rook weren’t quite so willing to do what’s necessary even if he hurts himself in the process. Such as bring up the limbo they’ve been in, dancing back and forth ever since that first kiss. They’re together, and not, and they are, but both too cautious to give it their all. Or maybe that’s just Cassian, he can’t even say anymore how much Bodhi is holding back out of his own fears and how much is him being afraid he’ll send Cassian running if he tries for more.

But how can he open up to him? He’s got all these good reasons why he can’t. He’s made lists, numbered ones even.

And now Bodhi has him trapped on this wretched too hot and humid planet. They couldn’t even crash on a decent ice planet.

“Why are you even here?” Cassian asks as he abruptly stands up. Gruffness is always his preferred armor to hide behind, even if it does little to discourage Bodhi these days. He’s already let him in too far. Bodhi knows he won’t bite him, though his bark might leave wounds too.

“Because it’s the right thing to do. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

“Are we?”

That’s always how it goes. It starts innocuously enough, and then it turns sour. There’s too much they need to talk through properly, and Cassian _knows_ talking is the only thing that will make it better, but knowing the necessity doesn’t make it any easier. Nor does it make it any less frightening that they might talk and talk, only to realize they can’t find enough common ground to stand on. He’s never been a coward before, but the stakes have never been so high and personal, either.

“I’m here to help, Cassian,” Bodhi says firmly. He’s not angry, not yet, but his voice is firm. He’s come a long way from the mind-broken mess of a man Cassian found in a cell on Jedha.

“You worked for them,” Cassian grits out, and Bodhi looks tired and unsurprised, which is about how Cassian feels. This is the crux of it, this is what all their conflicts come down to.

The very thing that made Bodhi valuable to Rogue One makes it near impossible for Cassian to permit himself to love him. He knows Bodhi understands that Cassian can’t afford to see Imperials as people who might be misguided or capable of change. The only way Cassian can keep doing his job is if he believes that everyone working for the Empire is deserving of death, no questions asked, no second thoughts. The only way he can let himself love Bodhi is if he believes it isn’t so.

“You don’t say no to the Empire, and I made the best of it, yes. I wanted to make a career of it, I saw my chance to fly among the stars and I took it.” He looks down at his folded hands, picking at a cut he gave himself during repairs. “I thought I could ignore what was happening on Jedha, that every man’s got to be out for himself because nobody else cares for you either, right?” He shrugs, but his eyes look haunted. “But between things only getting worse on Jedha and what I saw elsewhere… Galen helped me remember who I am, and… You know the rest.”

“And now you’re here.”

Bodhi nods, “Now I’m here.”

Cassian looks down at him. He thinks back to his determination on the way to Scarif, his ingenuity and connections that had gotten them access to both Eadu and Scarif. Even after the Imperials knew the identity of their defector Bodhi had always been one step ahead of them. The spy in him admired that, even as he wondered if the same ingenuity would be used against him one day.

He wants it to be enough, he wants it so much that it hurts, but adrenaline thrums through him, a lifetime of instincts telling him to protect himself.

Sometimes Cassian wonders if there isn’t something fundamentally flawed with him, and if he wouldn’t just find something else to pin his fears on if Bodhi were a model rebel born and bred on Alderaan.

But he’s not, and so Cassian keeps seeing Imperial flags.

“You could look away once. What makes you sure you won’t be able to ignore it again?”

It’s a problem he has with all the new friends he made, and all these Rebel foot soldiers who are Imperial defectors, but none of them are to him what Bodhi is. Or what he wants him to be, if only they can move past their differences. It’s easier when you have low expectations. He doesn’t want to have low expectations of Bodhi, doesn’t want some halfway thing where he flinches at every shadow, always braced for a knife in the back.

“Do you think I don’t ask myself the same thing?” Bodhi inhales sharply. “I’m afraid, too, Cassian. I never used to be a hero, and then I found the courage to do the right thing. But every time I fly for the Alliance I doubt myself and my courage all over again. I wonder if this will be the time it fails me, and if I fail everyone who depends on me. But I won’t. I know I can’t afford to falter.” He shakes his head. “I just wish you could believe in me. I can’t do it if we’re both doubting me.”

Cassian’s gaze is hard and cold when he next meets Bodhi’s, and he takes pride in it. It doesn’t matter how he feels on the inside, he can still keep up appearances. On some days a pretense is nearly as good as the real thing. “I’m sure you told yourself all these things before, too. How am I supposed to trust you’ll stay this time?”

Bodhi doesn’t flinch or cringe or any of the other tells which he could pinpoint and twist into signs of guilt. He just looks stubborn, and beneath that, very hurt. “If everything I’ve done isn’t good enough for you, then I don’t know how words could convince you.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. “And I shouldn’t have to! You’ve got to trust the one you love.” He shakes his head, fast and jerkily. “That’s what relationships are built on, you know.”

Cassian scowls, for he can read _for normal people_ between the lines and it feels like an accusation. Maybe that’s just in his own mind, but he’s always been his own biggest critic anyway.  He abruptly turns his back to Bodhi, makes to leave. “You know trust isn’t my strength.”

Bodhi’s hand closes around his wrist before he can take a step, he’s gotten from the empty box he’d sat on to Cassian’s side before the danger had even registered with him. His hand is warm and rough, his fingers greasy still from their earlier repairs. “Don’t go. Stop running from me.” He swallows audibly, Cassian can see his throat work. Something deep in him aches to press a kiss to his skin there. “Stop running from _us_.” He meets Cassian’s eyes again, and while his voice remains coaxing, the prominent emotion in his eyes is frustration. “You’re better than that, Cassian, you aren’t a coward in any other part of your life!”

It jars through him. Even his breathing halts.

“I…” Cassian’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, but his mouth is dry. He takes a shaky breath. “I.”

He finds no words.

He can watch the determination seep out of Bodhi’s eyes like water trickling between your fingers. Soon enough there will be nothing left, and he’ll surrender for today.

Sometimes Cassian wonders how many disappointments it will take for Bodhi to give up on him altogether.

He wants to find out, just so he can prove to himself that he was right all along, and Bodhi is no different from any other person he tried and failed to share his life with.

He also wants this time to be different.

These are impossible, contradictory desires, and so… he does nothing.

He looks down at Bodhi’s hand around his wrist, and up to meet his eyes again. There’s a bitter twist to his lips. “Maybe that’s why this part of my life doesn’t exist.”

Again, Bodhi swallows hard. He doesn’t look upset anymore, just sad. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Didn’t you tell me you hoped the Death Star would clean your slate? The Death Star’s gone, but you’re still in your cage.”

Frustration wells up in Cassian, he takes a step towards Bodhi though he knows he should leave. It’s always dangerous, getting too close to Bodhi Rook. And Bodhi is still holding on to his wrist. Cassian doesn’t want to shake him off, but he’s not one to go down without a fight either.

“Like you’re not?”, he demands, challenge turning his voice sharper than he had intended. “You haven’t stopped running yet. Are you afraid your past will catch up to you, Ensign Rook?”

Bodhi looks pained again, and Cassian feels self-hate churn in him. That had been a low blow. He’d used it because he knew it would be one, and if he isn’t strong enough to leave, then he’s got to give Bodhi a reason to leave first.

“I know it’ll take a lifetime till I feel I’ve done enough to make up for working for the Empire,” Bodhi says, and his voice shakes in a way that makes Cassian yearn to reach out and brush back the strand of hair that has come loose, and to kiss away the pained, pinched expression that has overtaken his face. Bitterness turns his lips even more pinched, and for a moment Cassian can see his own twisted mirror image in Bodhi’s face. “But even a lifetime wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?” For all the grief in his eyes he doesn’t sound resentful, just resigned. “Your world is black and white, there’s no room for people making wrong decisions and regretting them. How could you forgive anyone else, you can’t even forgive yourself.”

“There…” Cassian licks his lips. They’re chapped. He’s frowning. He can hear his heartbeat echo in his ears. At the end of a short, but fierce struggle, he averts his eyes. “That’s not true.”

It’s not, is it? He’s given Jyn a chance. He’s given Bodhi one, too, as a teammate.

“Then why am I the only one in Rogue One you still can’t trust?”

To Cassian the answer is very simple: because there is nobody he wants to trust more.

“I trusted you on Eadu.”

“You needed me on Eadu.” Cassian opens his mouth to object, but Bodhi ruthlessly goes on. “I was part of your mission, your _absolution_.”

The noise Cassian makes at the back of his throat is pained. “You’re not my mission anymore.”

“No.” Bodhi’s hand slips from his wrist to his palm. Cassian’s fingers curl around his and trap them. He looks terrified now, and Cassian feels some grim satisfaction that he is at last no longer the only one terrified. “I’m not.”

It’s Bodhi who reaches for him first. In every one of the hundred fantasies Cassian had had of this moment, it’s him taking the first step, but of course it’s Bodhi. It’s always Bodhi who takes the risks nobody else dares to take, that’s one of the things Cassian admires about him. It’s just awfully inconvenient at times. Bodhi’s fingers are warm on the back of Cassian’s neck, and his other hand is clutching his fingers in a painful, desperate grip like he’s afraid Cassian will run.

He’s not wrong to fear it.

Bodhi is a pilot. Pilots face their enemies head-on. Spies feel safer in the shadows, and Cassian has always been an excellent spy.

Bodhi’s shorter, but not by much, it barely matters when their lips meet.

Cassian makes another pained noise as the resolve he has been holding on so desperately crumbles in his fingers. That, too, runs through the cracks like water. He pushes Bodhi back against the charred hull of their shuttle.

His kiss tastes of emergency rations and the chemical taste of the water purifier tablets. It shouldn’t make Cassian’s blood burn, but it’s just another thing defying all common sense. Bodhi’s kisses have that effect on him every single time.

It’s Bodhi who gentles their kiss when Cassian pushes for harder, and Bodhi who nudges him back with a small, wistful smile. “Don’t do that, Cassian,” he says quietly. “I don’t want us to be something you can dismiss as a mistake in the morning.”

He stills, feeling caught though he hadn’t consciously planned on that. But now that Bodhi brings it up, burning it away like fever does an infection does sound awfully appealing to him. Far too appealing.

Bodhi gives him a small grin. He smooths his hair though Cassian didn’t even get to ruffle it – he feels a pang of regret that he didn’t get to ruffle it. “I’m a gambler. I know you’ve got to go all-in sometimes, but sometimes you’ve got to wait for your chance.”

“And I’m a sniper. I know a lot about waiting.”

The nighttime sounds filter into their little world again. The rustling of the leaves, screeches of wild animals, and the faint trickling of the nearby brook.

Cassian edges back, till he’s no longer cornering Bodhi against the wreck of their shuttle.

Bodhi follows him step for step. The frown returns to Cassian’s face, but Bodhi’s smile stills it before it can darken his features. “I like it when you’re annoyed.” He must realize that this is bound to make Cassian thoroughly annoyed, for Bodhi promptly corrects himself, “not like that, but you start frowning and…” He chuckles sheepishly. “I should just shut up now.”

Cassian’s lips twitch. “You should.”

They’re still holding hands.

He doesn’t know where to proceed from here, but Bodhi seems to be equally clueless, and maybe that’s a little bit comforting.

It feels like their quarrel today has resolved nothing, just like every other argument exactly like this one that has preceded it.

But they’ve just established that they’re both good at waiting, Cassian reminds himself – and trust grows slowly. It has to be built brick by brick over time, and is always easier shaken than mended. That is just the nature of things, it doesn’t help to be bitter about it.

“We should get back to work,” he offers, shooting the wreck of a shuttle a dark look. “I don’t know about you, but I won’t be able to sleep knowing we’re defenseless if the Empire tracks us down.”

Bodhi nods, Cassian can’t say for sure but he seems to be relieved. It makes sense, after the day they’ve had they both only have so much energy left for emotional upheavals. “I had some ideas over dinner, I recalled some tricks we used on Jedha to keep broken ships in the air for a little longer.” He grins nervously. “I’m not saying it’ll work, but… We’ve got nothing to lose?”

“That’s the most hopeful thing I’ve heard all day,” Cassian tells him with an answering grin.

They can bide their time.

Bodhi doesn’t release Cassian’s hand till they go back to work, and he’s glad for it.


End file.
